118 Color Culture and Science Journal Vol. 16 (2) DOI: 10.23738/CCSJ.160212 Queer Futures, Violet Futures: Queer Modernity Symbolism of Violet in West Culture Kévin Bideaux1,2 1 Laboratoire d’Études sur le Genre et la Sexualité (LEGS, UMR8238), University of Paris 8, France. hello@roseincorporated.net 2 Centre Français de la couleur (CFC), France. Corresponding author: Kévin Bideaux (hello@roseincorporated.net) ABSTRACT The history of arts, gender studies, and queer theories is brought together to analyze the artistic, cultural, and political uses of violet since the discovery of mauvein by William H. Perkin in 1856. Looking back over the last 150 years of violet’s history, the aim is to highlight how this color has linked modernity and queerness since the late 19th century, when violet tones became a defining characteristic of fin-de-siècle fashion, painting, and literature. Violet has also long been associated with feminist and queer movements in Europe and North America, from the Suffragettes' emblem to the non-binary pride flag. Beyond the visible spectrum, ultraviolet light can serve as a metaphor for a ‘beyond of gender’, referring to the dissolution of feminine/masculine and homo-/heterosexual binaries. Could violet be the color of the future? And is that future inherently queer? KEYWORDS Violet, Queer, Modernity, Colour Symbolism, Synthetic Colorants RECEIVED 24/07/2024; REVISED 17/10/2024; ACCEPTED 02/11/2024 Queer Futures, Violet Futures: Queer Modernity Symbolism of Violet in West Culture 119 Color Culture and Science Journal Vol. 16 (2) DOI: 10.23738/CCSJ.160212 1. Introduction: A Modern Take on Violet In 1856, the discovery of the synthetic dye mauveine by British chemistry student William Henry Perkin marked a major turning point in the history of violet [1]. Until then, its production had been difficult and expensive; however, it was now possible to produce it inexpensively and quantitatively, sparking a veritable trend in fashion and painting at the end of the 19th century. As a result, violet began to be used as a means through which these groups were stigmatised, who, through reappropriation, also embraced the colour as a cryptic queer emblem. The turn of the 20th century also witnessed feminist struggles for suffrage, with violet emerging as a significant emblem for one of the most renowned suffrage movements: the Suffragettes. A few decades later, violet became closely linked to queer struggles, and by the 2000s, it had become synonymous with transgender and non-binary identities, representing a desire to transcend the binaries of masculinity and femininity, as well as the rigid distinctions between homo- and heterosexuality. Fig. 1. Silk skirt and blouse dyed with Sir William Henry Perkin's. London: Science Museum Group. At the heart of a revolution in organic chemistry and the textile industry, violet has accompanied feminist and queer movements, contributing to the emancipation of women, gender and sexual minorities. This positions violet as a colour of modernity, symbolising an ideology oriented toward progress, innovation, and liberation. For the first time, the technical advancements in violet dyeing and painting, its feminist and queer symbolism, and the social and legal progress for women and queer individuals in the 20th century are being woven into a cohesive narrative. Previously, these themes had been studied, but only in isolation from one another. By revisiting the last 150 years of violet’s history, this research will examine its deep connection to modernity and its potential role as a colour of the future – perhaps inherently queer. Various studies on violet will be bridged, linking its material, social, cultural, artistic, and spiritual significance. Queer and feminist activist archives will also be analysed, employing a semiotic approach to images and objects, combined with contemporary texts from these sources, to establish connections between subjects that are not always easily reconciled. Positioned at the crossroads of gender studies, cultural studies, the history of social movements, and art history, this research offers a multidisciplinary perspective on the evolution of violet as a symbol of modernity and queer emancipation. 2. The Mauve Decade: Mauveine, Fashion, and Feminism In 1856, while attempting to synthesise quinine in search of an anti-malarial substance, Perkin realised that by cleaning up the organic waste from his experiments, he was obtaining a violet solution (Cova, Pais, and Seixas de Melo, 2017). The apprentice chemist unwittingly developed the first synthetic dye based on aniline, which he initially called ‘aniline purple’. Later known as ‘mauveine’, this synthetic colour achieved dazzling success, prompting Perkins to borrow money from his father to establish a factory in the year following its discovery. He also introduced the textile industry to his dye, capable of colouring wool and silk in various shades of violet (Fig. 1), which had previously required expensive materials or processes (Beer, 1926). Fashion is linked to modernity – sometimes seen in opposition to it – since, as Nicolas Liucci notes, “the strengthening of modern thought will be concomitant with the exponential development of the fashion industry, which will quickly affect the entire social body” (2008). Public demand for shades of violet known as ‘mauve’, ‘lilac’, or ‘heliotrope’ surged further under the influence of Eugénie de Montijo, wife of Napoleon III, who found mauve to perfectly match her eyes, and Queen Victoria, who wore a mauve velvet train at her daughter's wedding on 25 January 1858 (Fig. 2), on the advice of Empress Eugénie (Garfield, 2000, pp. 58–59). Violet hues became such a craze in 19th-century European fashion that historians sometimes refer to the final years of the 19th century in Europe and North America as the ‘mauve decade’ (Delevoy, 1978, pp. 45–68; Beer, 1926). However, the British newspaper The Punch negatively described this fashion as “mauve measles”, cynically depicting it as a disease whose “ravages are principally among the weaker sex” (Anonymous, 1859). Queer Futures, Violet Futures: Queer Modernity Symbolism of Violet in West Culture 120 Color Culture and Science Journal Vol. 16 (2) DOI: 10.23738/CCSJ.160212 Fig. 2. Phillip, J. (1860) [extract]. Oil on canvas, 103,2 × 184 cm. In the 18th century, European women were already the favored customers of fashion retailers; the link between fashion and women continued to strengthen with industrialisation from the late 18th century in the United Kingdom and until the end of the 19th century in other European and North American countries (Chessel, 2012, pp. 69–82). The mechanisation of clothing manufacturing gave rise to ready-to-wear fashion, while the optimisation of printing led to the development of the ‘women’s press’. Above all, the creation of department stores transformed shopping into the favoured pastime of middle- and upper- class urban women (Rappaport, 1999). Violet was a popular colour at the end of the 19th century, particularly associated with bourgeois women, but often in a negative light, as it was linked to “the vulgarity of cheap fashion, which the aniline revolution had precisely brought about” (Ribeyrol, 2021). Associated with technological progress, violet also symbolises social progress, as it became the emblem of one of the most famous suffragist organisations: the Women's Social and Political Union (WSPU), founded in 1903 by Emmeline Pankhurst, whose activists earned the nickname ‘Suffragettes’ [2]. In 1908, Emmeline Pethick- Lawrence proposed the selection of colours to differentiate the WSPU from other organisations, and violet, white, and green were chosen, each representing its symbolic value: “Purple as everyone knows is the royal colour, it stands for the royal blood that flows in the veins of every suffragette, the instinct of freedom and dignity… white stands for purity in private and public life… green is the colour of hope and the emblem of spring” (1908). These three colours quickly became among the most distinctive features of feminist demonstrations, worn by activists in the form of ribbons, scarves, medallions, or clothing, and disseminated via posters, leaflets, and banners (Fig. 3). Across the Atlantic, suffragist Elizabeth Blackwell is said to have found a cryptic message in the choice of these colours, with the initials of the colour names coding different words: ‘Violet’ for ‘Votes’, ‘Green’ for ‘Give’ and ‘White’ for ‘Women’, thus forming ‘Give Women Votes’, the emblematic slogan of feminists during that period (Florey, 2013, p. 80). Fig. 3. WSPU postcard album (c. 1911). London: British Library of Political and Economic Science. These explanations alone do not fully account for this choice of colours; there was also a practical aspect to consider, ensuring that all suffragettes could easily wear the WSPU colours. Since violet was fashionable – just as green was (Matthews David, 2017) –, most women had at least one item in these colours in their wardrobes, allowing them to assert their political allegiance without making an expensive purchase (Heller, 2000, pp. 172–173). By relying on fashion, which women were thought to have a natural inclination towards, the suffragettes attempted to overcome the negative image of the feminist as “strong- minded,” i.e., masculine: “[they] used fashionable dress as a form of propaganda in the belief that ‘eccentricity’ would make the vote harder to obtain” (Ribeiro, and Blackman, 2015, p. 203). Furthermore, by choosing fashion as a Queer Futures, Violet Futures: Queer Modernity Symbolism of Violet in West Culture 121 Color Culture and Science Journal Vol. 16 (2) DOI: 10.23738/CCSJ.160212 mode of communication and using synthetic colours as an emblem, they personified themselves as avatars of modernity, associated with both novelty and progress enabled by technological innovation. 3. Violet Flowers: Fin-de-Siècle, Decadence, and Homosexualities These new shades of violet, absent in nature, were especially regarded as abnormal, which contributed to violet’s growing popularity within the Decadentism, a fin- de-siècle literary movement (Palacio, 2011) named after the decadence of the Roman Empire (Ward-Perkins, 2005). Although the end of the 19th century had little in common with the turning point of Roman civilisation, the sentiment of decadence was sufficiently pervasive to influence literary creation (Courapied, 2014, p. 48). Historian Michel Winock describes decadence as “above all a vague idea, a pessimistic representation of the world, a nostalgia for what is no longer, a creation of the sullen, alarmist or downright desperate imagination” (2018, p. 4). This characteristic spleen of the fin-de-siècle coincided with fears arising from societal upheavals accompanying the entry into modernity: the decline of the Church, the social advances for women gaining access to new professions, and the political organisation of the proletariat (ibidem). The ambiguous term ‘decadence’, laden with negative connotations, was used to stigmatise behaviours deemed immoral or unhealthy due to modernity and its progress (Kopp, 2019), including male homosexuality. This notion became the focus of moral, psychiatric, and legal studies, viewed as a symptom of industrialisation that risked depopulating society, leading to a decline of civilisation, as well as a ‘vice of luxury’ associated with artistic and literary modernity (Tamagne, 2002). Rejecting the virile and moralising values of society, the decadents made the homosexual aesthete and the androgynous figures “a widespread subject, a constitutive element of Decadence” (Palacio, 2011, p. 188). Decadentism then manifested as a revolt against nature in favour of art or even the artificial, which was crystallised by the numerous references to artificial flowers, mass- produced at the end of the 19th century and often coloured surrealistically with synthetic dyes. Literary researcher Romain Courapied notes that “[t]he decadent aesthete and the ordinary homosexual have a comparable use of flowers, chosen for their surprising colours” (2014, p. 407), particularly green, black, violet, or dark red, which “indicates a predisposition to refinements and desires that are […] the fruit of a perversion of natural conditions” (ibid., p. 400). Violet flowers, in particular, were used to suggest depravity in a homosexual context, as in Messes noires. Lord Lyllian by Jacques d'Adelswärd-Fersen: in a scene set at the Salle Wagram, a guinguette frequented by homosexual men, young ephebes “had sown violets” on the tables (1905, p. 105). According to Courapied, “the colour violet acts as a paradoxical indicator of a perverse content integrated into pleasing aesthetic forms” (2014, pp. 409–410), referring to the liminal symbolism of violet, which echoes the twilight hues at sunset; it can also evoke disease or putrefied flesh, thus resonating with masculine homosexuality as perversion. Far from being exclusive to men, violet also references lesbianism through violet flowers. Some theories proposed by lesbian activists suggest that the association of violets with lesbianism is rooted in the Greek poet Sappho, whose texts are rich with allusions to this spring flower and who is believed to have been homosexual due to her declarations of love for other women [3] (Collecott, 1999, p. 91). However, violets are not the only flowers mentioned by Sappho: roses, crocuses, and other flowers adorn her texts, forming a vast garden (Reinach, 1911, p. 732), as is the case in much poetry from this period (Pelletier- Michaud, 2016, pp. 199-201). In fact, Sappho's association of violets – specifically the violet flower – with lesbianism owes less to her than to Renée Vivien, who translated Sappho's texts in the early 20th century. ‘Muse of Violets’, Vivien was devoted to this spring flower, which adorned her letter paper and featured in several photographic portraits [4]. The flower also appeared in her writings: Vivien mentions it fifty-four times throughout her works, even using it in the title of one of her books (1910). By extension, Vivien had a passion for the colour violet; she wrote in violet ink, one of her books bore the name ‘Violet’ (1903), and the colour pervaded her writings until it became “a recurring element of her poetry and an emblem of lesbian love” (Islert, 2021, p. 249). Her obsession with violet – the flower as much as the colour – was undoubtedly linked to her youthful love, Violet Shillito, who died prematurely; “[t]he binomial violet/violette thus refers to a triple reference for Vivien: the name of a colour, the name of a flower, and the proper name of the dead friend” (ibidem). The colour violet can also symbolise lesbianism in 19th- century painting, again in the form of flowers. For example, in Maria Luise Katharina Breslau's oil painting Contre-jour (1883; Fig. 4), the Swiss painter depicts herself and her companion in an interior scene, both seated around a low table on which rests a vase filled with flowers that are presumed to be violets. This floral and chromatic link, as well as a symbolic one between the two women, subtly reveals their lesbian relationship to those who can read between the lines in a century when homosexual relations were taboo. Breslau's painting conveys the secrecy Queer Futures, Violet Futures: Queer Modernity Symbolism of Violet in West Culture 122 Color Culture and Science Journal Vol. 16 (2) DOI: 10.23738/CCSJ.160212 required to sustain her romance, achieved through the play of shadows in which the scene is immersed. Fig. 4. Breslau, M. L. K. (1888) Contre-jour. Oil on canvas, 113 × 181,5 cm. Bern: Kunstmuseum Bern. 4. Indigomania: Impressionism, Artificiality, and Degeneration Deeply influenced by colour theories that proliferated since the publication of Isaac Newton's Opticks (1704), the Impressionists played with colour contrasts by juxtaposing complementary hues, using violet to paint shadows that contrasted with the light of yellow suns. Violet became so characteristic of Impressionist painting (Fig. 5) that the British art critic George Moore once mocked Louis Antequin for painting “the street, and everything in it, violet—boots, trousers, hats, coats, lamp-posts, paving- stones, and the tail of the cat disappearing under the porte cochère” (1893, p. 95). The journalist and art critic Albert Wolff suggested in Le Figaro that “Monsieur Pissarro should be made to understand that the trees are not violet, that the sky is not fresh butter” (1876); the Impressionists were particularly criticised for choosing colours based on their subjective perception, which no longer reflected nature and therefore seemed artificial, especially since they were now obtained synthetically using aniline (Ribeyrol, 2018). Taking up The Punch's pathologising to the popularisation of mauve among women (Anonymous, 1859), art critics viewed Impressionist painting less from an aesthetic perspective than from a medical and physiological one (Reutersvärd, 1950). French critic Joris-Karl Huysmans thus spoke of an “indigomania [indigomanie] that has wreaked such devastation on the ranks of painters” (1883, p. 107). Referring to the work on hysteria by neurologist Jean-Martin Charcot and ophthalmologist Xavier Galezowski (ibid., p. 104), Huysmans associated the Impressionists’ ‘manic’ use of violet with neurotic psychological disorders, which could impair the retinas and limit the perception of green in favour of blue and violet (ibid., p. 90, 104). By linking Impressionism to mental disorders, he joined the discourse on the decadence of fin-de-siècle society and the degeneration of art, as described by physician and art critic Max Nordau, who viewed industrial acceleration and modern art as indicative of societal degeneration (1882, pp. 30–31). The considerations given to the Impressionists are therefore similar to those directed at the Decadents, during a time when sexology was emerging and homosexuality became the subject of psychiatric study (Courapied, 2014). The difference is that while the Decadents took a clear stance on this theme, the Impressionists never addressed it directly or did so only subtly. Fig. 5. Sargent, J. S. (c. 1885-1886) Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose. Oil on canvas, 174 × 153,7 cm. London: Tate Britain. 5. Ultraviolets: Queer Communities, Activism, and Social Change The late 19th century saw the rise of ‘modern homosexuality’, with lesbians and homosexual men becoming increasingly visible – sometimes perhaps unwillingly – due to growing medical interest and the emergence of a ‘homosexual world’ in major cities, notably Paris, London, and New York, which Queer Futures, Violet Futures: Queer Modernity Symbolism of Violet in West Culture 123 Color Culture and Science Journal Vol. 16 (2) DOI: 10.23738/CCSJ.160212 remained an underworld (Latimer, 2005; Revenin, 2006). Violet then emerged as a code to signify homosexuality and to identify fellow homosexuals, a sign not necessarily recognised by heterosexuals. After the First World War, the associations between violet and homosexuality were perpetuated and strengthened. In Germany and Austria, “the colour purple became the code of the [lesbian and male homosexual] subculture” in the 1920s (Hacker, 2015), while in English-speaking countries, the slang expression “a streak of lavender” designated an effeminate man (Pollock, 1935, p. 115). The homosexual connotation of violet gained popularity in the 1930s (Delessert, 2012), and in the 1950s, the homophobic US senator Everett Dirksen used the expression “lavender lads” to refer to homosexual men (Johnson, 2004, p. 18). On 31 October 1969, violet was once again associated with homosexuality when journalists from the San Francisco Examiner threw violet ink at queer activists protesting a homophobic article (Bideaux, 2023a, p. 425). Fig. 6. Purple rhinoceros from the ‘Lavender Line’ project, made in papier-mache for the Boston Pride March (1974). A few years later, violet was associated with queer identity through the use of a purple rhinoceros in the advertising campaign dubbed ‘Lavender Line’ by Gay Media Action- Advertising. Aiming to raise the profile of gay and lesbian individuals through posters in the Boston metro system, the campaign used a violet rhinoceros as an allegory for homosexuality (Fig. 6). The animal was chosen for its inoffensiveness but also for its potential to be a frightening beast when provoked, while the colour symbolically combined the feminine and the masculine, as purple is a mixture of pink and blue [5] (Gray, 2019). Fig. 7. Calvès, M. (1979) March for free abortion and contraception, Paris, 6 October 1979. Meanwhile, violet remained a feminist emblem in Europe and North America and continues to be today. In creating a link with the Suffragettes’ emblem, feminists of the 1960s and 1970s imbued it with new meaning: as violet is a mixture of blue and pink – the traditional colours of layettes –, it signified the desire to dismantle gender stereotypes and to achieve gender equality (ibid., p. 304; Fig. 7). Choosing violet also differentiated them from other political movements with established colour emblems (red for communists, black for anarchists). Divisions within feminist movements were even symbolised by different shades of violet: the lesbians of the National Organization for Women (NOW) were labelled a ‘lavender menace’ by president Betty Friedan, who feared that their masculine appearance and animosity toward men would undermine the movement (Brownmiller, 1999, p. 82). In contrast, black feminist activist Alice Walker associated lavender with a ‘white feminism’ that rejected the integration of gender and race issues, while she linked purple to an intersectional feminism promoted by black women, which she termed ‘womanism’ [6] (1983, pp. XI–XII). By the end of the 1990s, the symbolism of violet had become more inclusive, incorporating new meanings that extended beyond homosexuality. It began to encompass bisexuality, with the bisexual pride flag featuring three stripes: a pink stripe signifying homosexuality, a blue stripe representing heterosexuality, and a violet stripe – a mixture of the first two – symbolising bisexuality (Fig. 7; Page, 1998). In the 2000s, violet also became emblematic of transgender struggles and identities, chosen again for its representation of both ‘pink for girls’ and ‘blue for boys’ Queer Futures, Violet Futures: Queer Modernity Symbolism of Violet in West Culture 124 Color Culture and Science Journal Vol. 16 (2) DOI: 10.23738/CCSJ.160212 in one of the transgender pride flags (Fig. 8; Pellinen, 2002). In the following decade, it appeared alongside yellow, white, and black in the non-binary pride flag (Fig. 9), representing individuals who identify between masculine and feminine gender identities (Fig. 10; Rowan, 2014). Violet thus mutates into ultraviolet, a light with a wavelength outside the visible spectrum, becoming a metaphor for the search for a “beyond gender” that challenges both feminine/masculine and homo- /heterosexual binaries. Fig. 8. Page, M. (1998) Bi Pride Flag. Fig. 9: Pellinen, J. (2002) Transgender Pride Flag. Fig. 10. Rowan, K. (2014) Non-binary Pride Flag. 6. Conclusions: Twilight Visions of Queer Futures It is clear that violet symbolically represents technological progress, artistic innovation, and the ever-evolving novelty of fashion. Conversely, it also aligns with emerging conceptions of homosexuality, the struggles for gender and sexual minority rights, and the possibilities for women and queer individuals to live freely. Since the late 19th century, it has been seen as the “subversive colour of modernity” as much as that of queer utopian perspectives. Even today, violet is used to evoke better futures, where progress is combined with individual development and freedom. It is thus the colour most associated with cyberspaces – now referred to as metaverses – perceived as a liminal colour that fuses the digital world – symbolised by the blue of the internet – with the physical world – symbolised by the red blood of our flesh (Bideaux, 2023b). Imagining the metaverse in violet also entails viewing digital worlds as queer spaces, where anonymity allows individuals to transcend questions of gender or sexuality and fully experience their individuality (Lau, 2014). As the last light in the visible spectrum to be perceived before darkness, violet is also the colour of twilight – the liminal colour between day and night, between the visible and the invisible. As we have seen, it symbolically plays with the limits of femininity and masculinity, as well as homo- and heterosexuality. Associated with modernity, violet signifies the transition between the present and the future, yet it also embodies a convergence between queer utopia and straight dystopia. Indeed, modernity has not always been synonymous with queerness, as the discovery of mauveine served to stigmatise bourgeois women (Ribeyrol, 2021) and advances in psychiatric medicine facilitated the oppression and repression of homosexuals (Courapied, 2014). At the same time, certain feminist achievements may have overlooked both racialised women (Walker, 1983) and transgender women (Worthen, 2022). Additionally, gays and lesbians often lack solidarity with bisexual and transgender individuals, and in some cases even discriminate against them (Weiss, 2011). While modernity may not be fully realised without the emancipation of all, there is no guarantee that the future will be queer, at least within the Western symbolic framework. However, if envisioned correctly, violet – and even more so ultraviolet – will likely continue to serve as enduring symbols of queer modernity. 7. Conflict of interest declaration It is confirmed that there are no conflicts of interest related to this publication, and no substantial financial support has been provided that could have influenced the results or conclusions of this work. Queer Futures, Violet Futures: Queer Modernity Symbolism of Violet in West Culture 125 Color Culture and Science Journal Vol. 16 (2) DOI: 10.23738/CCSJ.160212 8. Funding source declaration This article was partially funded by a post-doctoral grant from the University of Paris 8 Vincennes–Saint-Denis (France). 9. Acknowledgment I would like to express my gratitude to Olivier Thuillier and Trystan Pierrart for their proofreading and assistance with the translation, and to my former student, Ariane Tassin, for her insightful contributions to the study of twentieth- century lesbian portraiture. I also extend my thanks to Chaim Ebene Narang for his meticulous final revisions. 10. Short biography of the author Kévin Bideaux (they/he/she/it) are an artist-researcher specialising in arts and gender studies, with a focus on the intersection of colours and gender representations. In 2022, they were awarded the Institut du Genre prize for their doctoral thesis, which explores the cultural and symbolic history of pink in relation to gender and sexualities. Currently, they are investigating the colour purple within the context of gender, sexualities, and feminist and queer movements. Notes [1] While ‘purple’ and ‘violet’ are colour terms that can be used interchangeably in English (Matschi, 2005), ‘violet’ is preferred here, as it is more commonly associated with the part of the visible spectrum that has the shortest wavelengths, whereas “purple” tends to refer to various combinations of red, blue, and violet. This connection to light, particularly ultraviolet rays – which will be discussed at the end of the article – is considered more aligned with the concept of modernity discussed in this context, while ‘purple’ relates more to the ancient dye obtained from murex. [2] From the outset, the Women’s Social and Political Union (WSPU) positioned itself as distinct from other suffragist movements, which it viewed as too moderate. The WSPU preferred more radical forms of action to achieve results. In a press article in the Daily Mail in 1906, the journalist Charles E. Hands referred to them as ‘suffragettes’, a term used pejoratively to mock them, the suffix ‘-ette’ conveying a diminutive sense. They decided to reclaim the term, and ‘suffragette’ came to describe all committed women who resorted to violent methods. [3] In particular, in her Ode to Aphrodite, the only complete poem by Sappho that has been found, she addresses a prayer to the goddess of beauty, asking her to ensure that the woman she loves returns her affection (1903, pp. 3–9). [4] The association between violet and lesbianism is relatively recent. Around 1833, the Marquise Henriette de Mannoury d'Ectot published Le Roman de Violette (c. 1833), the first known erotic story written by a woman, notable particularly for its Sapphic scenes. The name ‘Violette’ refers to the protagonist, a young linen maid encouraged by her lover to yield to the advances of Countess Odette de Mainfroy. [5] Initially planned for the Boston Pride March, the launch of the campaign was delayed due to an increase in advertising costs announced two months after the project began. However, 100 posters were displayed in the Boston underground at the end of 1974. Despite a brief reappearance at the Boston Pride March in 1976, the purple rhinoceros never achieved the popularity it had hoped for. [6] ‘Purple’ and ‘lavender’ are used symbolically here in reference to their positions within the chromatic field of violet: in English, ‘purple’ designates a broad spectrum of shades, with ‘lavender’ being one of those nuances. 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